


If Lost Please Return

by AnnetheCatDetective



Series: On the Story [5]
Category: Transylvania 6-5000 (1985)
Genre: Collars, Dom/sub, Dry Humping, M/M, Oral Sex, Puppy Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 10:28:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24968227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/pseuds/AnnetheCatDetective
Summary: The dog thing used to be simple, if strange. A new assignment is about to make it more complicated...
Relationships: Jack Harrison/Gil Turner
Series: On the Story [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1186922
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Jeff Goldblum Cinematic Universe (JGCU)





	If Lost Please Return

It’s not news, but it sells papers.

And as far as non-news-that-sells-papers goes, it’s hardly the worst thing they’ve been asked to do.

Well, Jack’s been asked to do, but Gil’s insisted on coming with him.

“Gil, I don’t think your father wants me to take you to a fetish club.” Jack frowns, though Gil remains resolute, sitting on the foot of the bed with his arms folded.

“Well, I don’t want you going without me.”

“I’m not going for _fun_. I’m not going to be _approachable_. Trust me, I’ll tell people who I work for and no one will want to talk to me, let alone flirt with me.” He gives up on going through their wardrobe looking for something appropriate, drifting over to bend down and kiss Gil’s forehead. “I’m not going tonight, anyway. I look like a _narc_.”

“I thought you wanted to look unapproachable.”

“Yeah, but not like _this_.” He gestures to the clothes he’d worn into the office, and Gil nods sympathetically. 

“Can I go shopping with you?” He asks, hooking his fingers through Jack’s belt loops and tugging him closer. “Can I help you pick out an outfit?”

“I don’t need to buy an _outfit_. I just need to do a load of darks. I can wear jeans and a black tee shirt.” Jack says. He thinks he still has a pair of boots that would work… he doesn’t want to attract attention, that’s the point, he wants to look like the most boring man who belongs in a fetish club. 

So of course the following day he winds up in a leather shop with Gil. 

It’s… a lot. Too much, really. There are whips and paddles and restraints hanging up on the walls and he’s not comfortable with whips and paddles and restraints, and he’s going to have to _get_ comfortable, because he’s going into a fetish club and he has to look like he at least belongs a little bit. 

“Hi, how can I help you gentlemen?” The sales clerk glides over to them-- the sort of boy whose features are not especially attractive, but who gives off the impression of being pretty. It’s in the way he holds himself, the New Romantic haircut and touch of makeup that’s at stark odds with all the, well, _leather_. He looks like a cross between a pirate and an extra from beyond the Thunderdome, which is… also a lot, from a twenty-something year old with the perfect gentle customer service demeanor.

“I-- uh, I’m not… sure.” Jack admits.

“We’re going out to a club for the first time.” Gil says, with his usual openness. “And my partner is worried we’ll stick out.”

“That’s--” Jack starts, but it is technically true. “We’re not into… all of this stuff. The hard stuff. It’s just…”

Gil takes his arm for just a second and gives him an adoring look. “It’ll be _fun_. We don’t have to do the hard stuff, we can just do our stuff.”

“Well, like he said, we just don’t want to stick out. Nothing extreme.”

“ _Jack_!”

Jack turns to see Gil holding up a collar. Which he’d thought he didn’t really want to put him in, but if they’re going out, around other people, he thinks he likes the idea of putting his name on Gil. Or at least, a visual indicator that he belongs to someone.

And the look Gil is giving him over it… okay, so he has a weakness.

“Baby, you want that?” He rejoins him over by the display rack. Trails a finger along his neck and watches the way he reacts. “You want to wear that for me when we go out?”

Gil nods, eyes wide. “I think-- I mean, yeah?”

“This one? Or do you like another one?”

“Well… shouldn’t you pick? I mean, you’re the owner, I’m… you know.” And Gil just comes out and says it like that, and blushes all the way from his hairline to his shirt collar. “Which one do you think?”

The choice is paralyzing, and as little as Jack wants to entrust any part of the shopping process to another person, he’s lost enough here to be grateful when the sales clerk gives a gentle cough. 

“First time buyers?” He says. “It might help to think about the primary purpose you want the collar for.”

Jack did not know there were non-primary purposes. Well, okay, there are collars you could hook a leash onto and collars you couldn’t easily do that with, but beyond that, he’s flummoxed.

“Oh, see, I’m his dog.” Gil volunteers, without an ounce of shame. He catches the look Jack shoots him and shrugs. “Jack, he’s a _professional_.”

Jack could say a few words about the professionalism of a twenty-three year old who smells like leather and Aqua Net and looks like Adam Ant’s sexed-up baby brother, but he keeps that thought to himself, because they probably could actually use a little guidance.

“And do you want something that locks in place, or--”

“No. No, um… definitely not, easy on, easy off. Just… in case of emergencies, I wouldn’t want…”

“Well, have a look at these rows here-- you might want something with a soft lining, depending on how sensitive he is or how long you plan on keeping him collared at a stretch, but you can ignore the posture collars and the locking ones if that’s not what you’re looking for.’

Jack pretends he understands what differentiates a posture collar from any other kind and nods. He gives a few of the collars a feel, settling on one that seems to be very lightly padded, brown leather lined with pale blue satin. He’s not sure how much of the lining is going to be visible once it’s on, but he likes the fact that it reminds him of Gil’s eyes anyway. And he _is_ sensitive, and his comfort is key in all of this. That he’ll feel comfortable in it, that he’ll feel comfortable going out if he can make it clear he’s someone’s… it’s all really about Gil’s comfort. 

“What do you think?” He asks Gil, holding it up for his approval. Which, judging by the look on Gil’s face, he has in full. “You like it?”

Gil takes it and holds it up in front of himself, looking in the nearby mirror, and he nods emphatically, gets that look he sometimes gets, whenever they veer into whatever does it for him and he goes all soft and needy and obedient.

“All right, we’ll get that one.” Jack promises, taking it back. 

“Jack?” Gil reaches out, toying with the gleaming brass ring at the front. 

“Yes, honey? You want something else?”

He shrugs. “I don’t-- I mean, no, this is-- this is great. Um, but… shouldn’t I have a tag that, uh, that says I’m yours?”

“Can we get that here?” Jack asks the sales clerk. 

When they leave, it’s with a studded leather armband Gil had talked Jack into for himself, Gil’s collar, and a shiny diamond-shaped tag which reads GOOD BOY on the front, and _if lost please return to Jack_ on the reverse. At home, they cuddle on the couch after dinner to watch The Wizard of Oz, while Jack feeds Gil popcorn and they get used to the collar.

How strange now to think he’d thought he wouldn’t like it. It’s… 

It works. 

Gil is comfortable in it, relaxed, and it doesn’t look silly, the way he’d first imagined. It was for a moment, but then they’d settled into it and now it’s…

He doesn’t know, exactly, but he likes it. How easy it is to hook a finger through the ring with the little tag and direct him, tug him up to be kissed… and how Gil smiles up at him when he runs his thumb over the tag and calls him his good boy. Gil, comfy-cozy in pajamas and collar and Jack’s arms.

“C’mon. Bedtime for puppies.” He pats Gil’s hip. “Up.”

“Bed with you?” Gil mumbles into his chest.

“Yeah, it’s your bed.” Jack laughs. “ _Up_ , honey.”

“Puppy.” Gil corrects him. 

“Puppy.” He coos, guiding Gil up so that he can rub their noses together. Gil licks at his lips, and Jack laughs, giving his side a couple of gentle thumps. “Come on, up. _Bed_. Can you be a person long enough to brush your teeth?”

“Maybe.” Gil licks him again. “You love me?”

“I love you.”

“Just long enough to brush my teeth?”

“Just long enough to brush your teeth.” 

“And I’ll be your good boy and you’ll take care of me?”

“Don’t I always?” He nuzzles at Gil’s cheek, pets at him a little before removing the collar-- Gil whines softly when he does, and so Jack kisses him again. “Hey, hey. You want this back? Brush your teeth.”

“Okay, Jack. I love you.” Gil gives him one last peck before getting up, letting Jack up with him. 

Jack leaves the collar lying on the bed, they move around each other in the bathroom the way they usually do, getting ready side by side. The familiar trading of little touches, of smiles in the mirror. 

“Just for a minute.” Jack says firmly, when he retrieves the collar and Gil sits down and presents himself for it. “Not overnight. Okay?”

“Okay, Jack.” Gil wriggles in place a little bit, and Jack gets the collar buckled in place, gives the ring at the front a little tug and bends to kiss Gil’s forehead. 

“Good boy.” He pushes him onto his back, for a vigorous belly rub, lets Gil favor him with puppy kisses, doesn’t push him too far into ticklish territory. Just something a little too gentle to be called roughhousing, and when he’s pretty sure Gil’s had enough of it, he gets up and grabs Gil’s hairbrush from the dresser, urges him back up.

Gil relaxes into having his hair brushed and played through, into further snatches of praise, and there’s another protesting whine when Jack unbuckles the collar again.

“Baby, you can’t wear this all the time.” Jack cups his chin and kisses him softly, gets a lick in return. “That’s sweet, but I need my human boyfriend back.”

“Do you?”

“Yes I do.” He places the collar in his nightstand drawer. “There, that’s going to stay right here, safe and sound until tomorrow night, when we go out. Gil? Okay?”

“Okay.” He nods, though there’s a hazy uncertainty. Still, he’s sweet and compliant enough in letting Jack tuck him in and tug him in for a cuddle, he relaxes once they each have an arm around the other. “Okay, Jack. Human boyfriend.”

“Thank you, Gil.”

“I just… I think I really like having a collar. And, um… I know at first I said I wasn’t… but I like it a lot. Being your dog.”

“Yeah. I like it, too, honey.” Jack leans in for another soft goodnight kiss. “You’re a very good boy, and it’s… I don’t know. It’s not… weird, like I thought it would be, when it’s us. But I do need Gil, my human boyfriend. You know I’m always going to take care of you… and I love having a good boy who does what I tell him… but I also need the Gil that knows when to push back and argue with me when I’m wrong.”

Sometimes, of course, Gil argues with him when he’s right, but those are unimportant things like bigfoot and aliens. The important things, like self-acceptance, like giving _himself_ the things he needs, like allowing himself to be loved… those were all things he’d needed Gil to fight him on and make him see.

“Yeah?” Gil snuggles in against his neck. 

“Yeah. I need you. I’ve got my ways of taking care of you… you’ve got your ways of taking care of me. And I’d be lost without that Gil. But… you’ll get your puppy time. Tomorrow night, right? We’re going to this club?”

Really, they’re cutting the deadline pretty short by waiting another night, but they’d needed time to get used to this-- Jack had, at least. He’d needed to be able to get used to the collar at home first, to know if it changed anything, if it worked, to get used to it in case it was silly, to understand any surprise effect it might have on him. 

He falls asleep easy, with Gil in his arms, knowing they’re not likely to wake up in the same position-- and if they do, it’ll be a coincidence, Gil is a mobile sleeper, but Jack’s used to it, has learned to sleep through Gil’s rearranging of himself, to shift with him without waking as necessary. 

He wakes to Gil lazily humping his thigh, not quite awake and not quite asleep, the rocking of his hips and his warm breath where he has his face buried against Jack’s bare chest. The little snuffle and hum when Jack palms at his ass and he lifts his head to blink owlishly at the morning light.

“Good morning.” Jack grins at him. 

“Hi, Jack.”

“So is this, uh… is this…?” He gestures vaguely. “Are you doing this as my human boyfriend or as my puppy?”

It’s a question he wouldn’t have thought he’d have to ask, early on, because the puppy thing had never been sexual before, really. Even if Gil was naked, even with the licking. But there’s been… room, for it to evolve, and it’s changed as they’ve grown more comfortable, and then the collar had happened and really seemed to change things for Gil. And Gil, in the role of human boyfriend, usually prefers Jack to be on top driving the action, even though he’s certainly eager enough to initiate things as often as Jack does. He’s been known to do a bit of suggestive squirming while spooned up together, he’s been known to tug Jack to roll onto him, or to slide a hand down somewhere fun, but this is…

Different.

“... Both?” Gil bites his lip, face red. “I don’t know. Which, um, which would-- or, what would you do, if… if it was…?”

“Well, if I woke up to my human boyfriend grinding against me, I would pin him to the mattress and kiss him, and ask him why he’s not naked yet.” Jack says, and thinks very carefully about the other thing. He’s not really a dog person-- nothing against them, he just doesn’t see himself owning one that isn’t just Gil. An actual dog would be pushed away and scolded and then fixed if necessary. But then… Gil is never _not_ also his human boyfriend, the big ridiculous man in the frumpy old-fashioned pajamas with the tousled hair and the ready blush. Who he is very much enjoying being pressed up against, enjoying the change in pace that comes of lying under Gil and feeling him needy and uncertain...

“Okay…”

“And… I don’t know.” He admits. “Maybe I’d just… let you.”

“Let me… let me do anything I want?”

“Yeah.” Jack nods. He’s excited to see what that might be, if he’s honest-- normally what Gil wants is to hold on tight and let Jack do whatever _he_ wants, which is always fun, but this is… _interesting_. 

Gil wastes no time, permission granted, in shimmying down the bed, his mouth immediately on Jack. He doesn’t even peel his underwear out of the way. It’s as graceless as he’s ever been, pure desire, and Jack runs his fingers through Gil’s hair with a shaky sigh. 

He’s beautiful like this, he really is… not trying to be, because he’s not trying to be anything more than what he is, sweet and perfect. He’s so _eager_ , squirming and pressing close, licking and nuzzling as Jack grows harder under the attention, pushing into every touch to his hair, his face.

“Down, boy…” Jack holds him back, so that he can get his now-damp underwear kicked off, and once he does, Gil’s right back at it like pausing for only a moment had _pained_ him.

It’s not exactly a blowjob-- it’s mostly just licking, wet and sloppy, and sometimes Gil’s cheek rubbing against him instead for a moment. It’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to Jack, and he’s not going to think about what that says about him. Gil is adoring, devoted in a way Jack has never merited but which he craves with his whole being, and given the chance to take what he wants, he thinks first about how he can love Jack. And he makes the sweetest little _noises_ , so openly wanting, so unashamed. 

“Good-- good boy.” He says, he isn’t sure if he ought to, but he says it and Gil likes it, so he keeps with it. “That’s right, you’re such a-- oh, you’re such a good boy… you love me, good boy? Ohh, you wanna show me how much you love me? You’re so-- you’re so _sweet_ , my sweet boy, good boy…”

Gil lets out a gratified _hum_ against him, is humping his leg even as he mouths at him with abandon. It’s unfair how much he’s enjoying just this, his hand in Gil’s hair as he watches Gil’s lips and tongue, his own cock rock hard and leaking precome that smears across Gil’s flushed cheek… the flutter of his lashes between adoring looks, that punch-drunk kind of haze that comes over him when he’s like this, when he’s just a creature of needs for Jack to cater to-- or to let himself be enjoyed by, as the case may be. 

He comes across Gil’s face, stares down slack-jawed at the picture Gil makes like this, chasing his own orgasm, a complete mess… _Beautiful_.

He grunts and stills, Jack feels the sudden wet heat soak through Gil’s pajamas. 

“There you go, honey…” He hefts him up and onto his back and helps him wriggle free of the pajama bottoms, leaves the bed to get a damp washcloth. Gil’s asleep by the time Jack is done washing his face, and so he tucks him in, kisses his forehead before he goes to make breakfast.

Gil wanders in while Jack has the sausages browning in one pan and a spinach-tomato omelette occupying a little more of his attention, the coffee pot going. He takes the eggs off, pushes the lever down on the toaster, and gives the sausages a turn, before focusing on Gil.

Gil, standing there in pajama top and slippers and a sleepy frown.

“Didn’t want to wait for breakfast in bed?” Jack asks, smiling at the little shake of the head, and opening his arm for Gil to come in for a quick hug. “You woke up quick.”

“Missed you.” Gil nuzzles in against his neck, breathes in deep. “Breakfast smells good.”

“Are you smelling breakfast, or are you smelling me?”

“I’m smelling breakfast. And you. Both smell good.”

“Honey, go and put something on.” Jack taps his backside, gentle. “You’re getting cold. I can’t feed you breakfast if you’re getting cold.”

“Yes, Jack.” Gil pulls away a little, but makes no move to return to their bedroom.

“Go on, be a good boy for me.” He prompts. “I’ll be right in with breakfast, but I want you warm.”

Gil nods, heading back, and when Jack has the breakfast tray set, he finds Gil settled, pillows against the headboard and covers over his legs. Settling into bed with the tray between them is a familiar process, and Jack goes back and forth feeding Gil and himself bites of omelette, before hand-feeding Gil his sausage and his toast with marmalade, leaves it to Gil to handle his own coffee-- though he’s ready to swoop in if Gil seems shaky. He sometimes is, after… well, after the puppy stuff, he can be a little out of it until Jack gets something into him and he’s had a little time and a little rest. Like he needs to readjust to just being his human self again. 

It makes Jack a little keener to keep a careful eye on him, but it hasn’t really seemed like something to worry about. And he likes the way Gil’s always eager to cuddle close as he recovers himself. Not that Gil is ever un-cuddly, with Jack, but he helps himself to Jack’s personal space and his touch so sweetly, when he’s in that puppy headspace or just coming out of it, and Jack loves it, the way it gives him permission in turn, to reach out and touch and grab and pat and cuddle. 

They finish breakfast, they grab a quick shower, the day is a normal one, but they both feel the sense of building anticipation as it wears on. 

The quick trip home after work, Jack changing into the jeans and an old mostly-black band tee, boots, the studded leather arm cuff that he’s still not sure about, but which Gil seems to like. He slips Gil’s collar into his jacket pocket, as Gil changes out of his shirt and blazer from their day in the office and into a soft blue sweater. 

They look perfectly normal, until they reach their destination and Jack collars Gil outside the club, slips out of his jacket. He still feels nervous, unsure if they belong-- even after that morning’s new adventure, he doesn’t know if he really belongs. But Gil looks totally confident the moment the collar is buckled around his throat, and so Jack places a hand at the small of his back and steers him inside. 

“Come on, puppy.” He moves his hand from Gil’s back to hook his finger through the ring on the collar, and Gil trails after him happily. “You want a drink?”

“Okay.”

Jack just orders one wine spritzer, keeps hold of it and lets Gil sip on it, and they look for a vantage point to take in the crowd.

It’s a lot, yes, just like the shop had been a lot, but not as much as Jack had feared. No one tries to move in on Gil, no one gets up to anything wilder than he’d been prepared for-- yes, there are people who are outfitted in ways that make him vaguely uncomfortable, here and there, but he can deal with that, he just has to keep his eyes averted from a couple of people’s nipple jewelry and one rubber mask.

“ _Jack_.” Gil’s voice is soft with awe, and he’s holding himself so still he practically vibrates with the suppressed excitement. 

Jack turns to look where Gil’s staring. At first he thinks there must be some mistake, because he knows the elaborate rope harness can’t be what appeals to Gil. Gil’s _been_ tied up before, he’s hated it. True, it wasn’t by Jack, or under conditions you could call consensual or sexy, but that’s the thing, Gil’s experiences with being tied up are highly unsexy. True, there is also a collar, but Gil _has_ one of those. 

Then he sees the ears.

“... Really? You want to dress up more?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I just… I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d see another, um, dog. Human dog. I guess I feel less weird about it?”

“Do you want to go say hi?”

Gil sticks close to his side as they approach the other couple-- the dog in the arrangement is not entirely unlike Gil, though Jack doesn’t think he’s as good-looking. Floppy hair, big blue eyes… but he lacks some of Gil’s other charms. His partner is tall, athletic… handsome in his own way, Jack guesses, or in a way that’s not entirely unlike Jack, just… moreso, maybe. More of the things Jack’s always tried for, more than the things he is. 

There’s something comforting in the thought that the ideal man Jack always used to aim at or fake his way through being has a boyfriend. And that he probably has his own human flaws and an ideal he aims for or fakes his way through being. 

“Hi.” Jack says, feeling more awkward than he’d intended by far. “So, uh, that’s your, your dog.”

“That’s him.” He smiles, chucks under his partner’s chin. 

His collar has a little bone-shaped tag that simply reads PUPPY.

“Where’d you get the, ah, the ears?”

“Folsom, I think-- was that where, pup?” He asks, getting a nod and an affectionate nuzzle. “I mean, I’m sure there’s someplace local, can’t imagine there’s anything you can’t find here. But we’re traveling.”

“I’ve found shopping, uh, a little overwhelming so far.” He admits. “Everything, actually, is kind of a little overwhelming. Not sure if it’s all really our scene. I mean, this is. This part. Everything else I don’t know.”

“Well, if you ever find yourself on the opposite end of the country, I’d be more helpful… sorry.”

“If work ever takes us out that way, yeah, we, uh, we might see you again at, uh, your local... I mean, if we… if we did this kind of thing to, yeah.”

“Loosen up after a full day of business trip? That’s what we’re doing.”

“Yeah, it… it helps.” Jack runs a hand through Gil’s hair. “Work… is what it is. But when it’s over, I’ve got the best boy in the world, and he makes it worthwhile.”

“You know, back home we have pets only events. You should see if there’s something like that around here. If everything else is too overwhelming, play with a smaller group that’s a little more your speed?”

It’s good advice. They do a little bit of mingling, while they’re there, take in a little bit of what other people do. Jack figures they can bang out a story about the things they expected to, that won’t expose any real people, and Sensation!’s readership will eat it up no matter how stupid it is. 

It’s… fun, he likes mingling. He likes having Gil close at his side to be petted at, Gil offering eager puppy kisses in exchange for sips of wine spritzer, Gil happy to be gently manhandled, led by his collar or guided to kneel down at Jack’s feet. He leans his head against Jack’s thigh and pushes up into the hand in his hair and Jack accepts recommendations and advice from more experienced people. People who like the things he likes. People who praise Gil with the same polite distance you might expect a stranger to compliment your partner in front of you, if more in the tones of strangers in a dog park. 

The club as a whole is a lot, yes, but there are people there who are running at his speed, and it keeps it from being too much, it makes the things they do feel more normal. Not anything he’s going to announce to the general public, but… normal enough. Things that otherwise normal people do together, and they all seem nice and happy and well-adjusted. 

He’s not sure how often he’d do this, but he’s glad they did, he’s glad he didn’t go alone and sulk in the corner and avoid everything. 

When Jack feels like he’s probably hitting his threshold, and Gil seems to be fading, he takes him home, manages to feed him half a sandwich.

“You have fun?” He checks in, as he wrestles Gil out of his clothes-- given the state of his pajama pants, into a pair of Jack’s own sweats, which Gil seems happy enough with. 

“Mm. I had fun.”

“You wanna write a fake story tomorrow morning about fake people?”

“Bothers you.”

“Yeah, usually. But… not this time.” Jack kisses his cheek warmly, and gives the collar a little tug. “We’re gonna leave the real thing some mystique. Some privacy.”

“Okay, Jack.” Gil nuzzles into him, licks at his jaw.

“You ready to be a person again?”

“No.” He nips gently at him between licks. “In the morning.”

“Baby, you’re really going to have to be human Gil in the morning, so we’ve got to start coming down now.” Still, Jack waits a moment with his hand on Gil’s collar before he unbuckles it. “I’m going to put this away safe for next time. You’re still my good boy. Brush your teeth, now. Gil? You were _very_ good for me, honey.”

He sticks close while Gil gets ready for bed-- they work around each other the way they do every morning and enough of their nights, he just keeps a closer eye on Gil than he usually has to, before shepherding him to bed and tucking the both of them in.

“Tomorrow after work, can I have it back?”

“Yeah, honey. Ask me then, you can be my good boy while I fix dinner. That what you want?” He kisses Gil’s temple, takes his hand and laces their fingers together, drinks in Gil’s pleased sigh.

“I always want to be yours.”

“You always are. Even when you’re just a human person, you’re mine, and you’re good.”

Gil sighs again, and squeezes Jack’s hand. “That’s all I want.”

“Me, too, baby. Me, too.”


End file.
